Passing the Time
by caldera32
Summary: Arthur and Merlin have found themselves with a lot of free time and have nothing to fill it with but conversation. Many things will be revealed, and some of them might even be important- but don't expect it too often.
1. 26- Ygraine

A/N: This is a companion piece in my other fic _Bound Together_. Reference will be made to events in that story though it is not necessary to read it to understand this one.

Just some background for any of you who _are_ reading this fic on its own: Arthur knows about Merlin's magic and finds it fascinating; this takes place in season three soon after _Crystal Cave_.

Chapters will be named after their corresponding chapter of BT.  
Most installments will likely be humor, but we'll have to see what the boys feel like talking about ;)

* * *

Merlin eyed his master, seeing there was no way to get out of this conversation.  
"What do you want to know?"

Arthur gave an un-princely snort.  
"Much more than could possibly be covered in the few hours we have. How about we start with my father's reasons for hating magic?"

The warlock's face fell even further.  
"I was hoping you wouldn't ask about that..."

He fidgeted for a moment, avoiding his friend's eyes before answering.  
"You remember that vision of your mother? The one summoned by Morgause?"

Arthur stiffened.  
"Merlin, you aren't telling me..."

"Yes, Arthur. That was the truth. Your mother couldn't conceive, so Uther turned to Nimueh for help. He was informed there would be a price, but he assumed it would be something inconsequential for a king such as himself. I don't know how much of the fault was his own and how much belonged to Nimueh, but what he didn't understand is that there must always be balance. In order to create you, to give you life- another life had to be taken. _That_ is why your mother died at your birth. Uther cast all the blame on Nimueh and, by extension, on magic as a whole. I'm not sure if he legitimately thought Nimueh had done it on purpose, or if he was just trying to avoid taking his share of the guilt, but that is how the Great Purge began."

The prince had remained completely still and silent during this explanation, and now he spoke with a slightly broken voice.

"So it _was_ me- _I_ took my mother's life."

"Arthur, no. You had no choice in the matter. Any blame lies with Uther and Nimueh."  
The warlock grasped his friend's shoulders, willing him to listen and believe.

"Besides, your mother would have gladly given her life for you even had she known beforehand. She loved you deeply. Don't you remember what Ygraine told you? She didn't want you to feel badly about this- either for yourself or your father."

As if the royal could forget the only words he'd ever exchanged with his mother.

"Right." He nodded, doing his best to push away his emotions.  
"So why did you tell me it was all a lie?"

Merlin sighed and closed his eyes, arms falling to his sides.

"I admit that was difficult- to speak out against magic to you- but I couldn't let you kill your own father. You have so little family, you need to keep what you have close. I also know that, once your immediate anger had passed, you would have had trouble living with what you had done. It may have destroyed you, Arthur. You love him, I know you do, and _that_ is why I lied to you- why I protected Uther."

"But you must _hate_ him."  
It was a statement rather than a question.

The warlock shook his head.  
"No. I pity him, even fear him at times, but he is much too miserable and alone for me to hate him."

Arthur looked taken aback at the thought.  
He had always looked up to his father, saw him as strong and independent.

But looking at it objectively, he could agree with his servant's assessment.  
His father _was_ alone. Even Gaius, whom he had once been great friends with, had been shunted aside; only to be called on for his knowledge and experience rather than companionship.

"I hope I never end up like that."

Arthur hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud until Merlin answered.

"You won't- you're not your father. Besides, I wouldn't allow it."

Merlin smiled warmly at him, and Arthur found himself grinning in return.


	2. 28- Singing, Magic, and Boots

A/N: I'm pretty sure I told someone this would be a funny chapter, but I must now confess I somehow managed to forget what I had intended to write about... this makes me very sad and is the reason for the big delay in publication. My apologies.  
On that note- if you guys have some random thing you'd like to see the boys talk about let me know in a review or pm :)

I said 'humor' before but 'banter' would be more accurate. I think that should be a new genre selection.

The idea for Merlin's name origin came from Livin4Jesus's awesome fic "Balinor's Sons".  
You should all go read and review it right now: s/8861445/1/Balinor-s-Sons  
(Or wait until after you read this chapter, either way.)

If you don't get the final line: Merlin used his boot buckles to free himself and his fellow captives at the beginning of _Bound Together_ and wants to be prepared in case a repeat performance is called for.

* * *

Arthur fidgeted in his seat by the fire.  
His thoughts had been circling like buzzards ever since they had parted ways with the noblemen and he desperately needed something to distract from their dark inclinations.

Merlin was being no help at all as he was currently sitting on his bed, enchanting his sword.  
Arthur found it no less enthralling than the first time around, but still craved conversation and as soon as the warlock stopped chanting he leapt to fill the silence.

"Merlin?"

The other man jumped a little at the sudden interruption of his near-trance state.

"Yes, Sire?"

"Can you sing?"

The prince had been wondering about this since he had first heard the younger man bewitching the weapon he now carried at his own side.

"What?"

Arthur rolled his eyes.  
"I know you're a bit slow, Merlin, but even _you_ should be able to answer such a simple question."

The peasant snorted.  
"I'm pretty sure most people can sing, _Sire_."

"I _know_ that, Merlin. I'm asking if you're _good_ at it."

"If you're to be believed, there is nothing I'm good at."  
The servant quipped, picking up the new boots that had been delivered a few moments ago and beginning to polish them lovingly.

"Must you be difficult?"

"You'd get bored otherwise."

"_Mer_lin."

He sighed.  
"Fine. I don't know. I've only ever sung for my mother and she's a bit biased on the subject."

Both men smiled at the thought of Hunith, though Merlin's face fell soon afterward.

"What is it?"

"My mother... she must be worried sick. I sent the slaves I freed to Ealdor and she would have heard what happened. I can't believe I didn't think about that before!"

"Calm down, Merlin. Your mother knows you have magic, right? I'm sure she knows you can take care of yourself."

The warlock rolled his eyes.  
"A mother _always_ worries."  
He said it softly, well aware of the possibility that Arthur legitimately didn't know this fact of life.

"Well then, she probably went to my father like she did before- or would she not bother since he didn't help last time?"  
Now _he_ was starting to get worried. What if his father found out they were fighting in the tournament? What if Hunith was trying to help on her own?

The prince shook himself out of his musings.  
"There's no point in worrying about it when there's nothing we can do."

Merlin frowned, making a mental note to learn some magic for communication over distance, then nodded in reluctant agreement.

"There, that's enough of the heavy talk..." Arthur cast about for a lighter topic "so tell me, Merlin: have you got your eye on any of the maidservants back home?" He asked fully expecting an answer in the negative, at which point he would tease the man and get the banter back on track; but the depression that descended on his friend's face indicated that he had picked the wrong question.

"No, forget I asked. Ah... what does it feel like, having magic?"  
It had been a spur-of-the-moment conversation starter, but he _was_ genuinely curious.

The warlock hitched an eyebrow, the melancholy abruptly wiped from his expression.  
"Well, I wouldn't really know, now would I?"

"What kind of absurd response is _that?_"

"I was _literally_ born with it, Arthur. I've no idea what it's like to be 'normal'."

The prince just blinked at him.  
Now that it came up again, he remembered Merlin having said he'd been born with it, but the implications of that fact had yet to be considered.

"That's how I got my name, actually." The peasant said absently, now leaning back and staring at the ceiling.

"What?"

"When the midwife handed me over to my mother I opened my eyes and they were gold." He chuckled darkly.  
"Good thing that old bat didn't see- she probably would have seen me sold off to a bounty hunter."

Arthur's heart clenched. If- but no, these were the kinds of thoughts he was trying to avoid.  
"How about when you use it, then? What does _that _feel like?"

Merlin looked over at him.  
"You know, if you're really that curious, I could look up a body-switching spell and you could find out first hand."

The prince shuddered, simultaneously intrigued and repulsed.  
"Would that work, though? Would your magic stay with your body or would you simply be able to use magic in _my_ body?"

Dark blue eyes studied him.  
"I don't know, but that's an interesting question- wonder where that came from?"  
He continued gazing at the prince as if expecting to see a fairy whispering ideas into the elder's ear.

Arthur grimaced at him.  
"You know what? Nevermind. I don't think I could stand feeling so weak, even temporarily."

The servant just smirked at him.

The two were silent for a short time before the royal noticed an odd scraping sound.

"What are you doing?"

"Sharpening my buckles."


	3. 37- Teach me?

A/N: Welcome to another chapter of this little diversion

Nance and PercyForever15: I'll probably write that up as a separate story ;)

* * *

Merlin settled onto the bed, fully prepared to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow- until some dollop head had to go and ruin it by speaking.

"Do you think I could learn magic, Merlin?"

The servant looked over at his master, wondering if he had somehow damaged the man's brain during their training session.

"What?" Was his incredulous response.

The strength of the warlock's disbelief must have made Arthur realize just how absurd his question was as he now looked rather embarrassed.

"It's just... it would be a great thing to have, not be so disadvantaged against all those sorcerers that are constantly trying to kill me..."  
He drifted off, staring at the wall.  
It would also be useful in getting revenge on Merlin for sending him flying so many times...

The sound of fabric shifting and soft footsteps had him turning around just as a pale hand came to rest on his forehead.  
The prince stared into Merlin's eyes as they flared with golden light for just a moment before fading back to blue.

"Hm." He said, then returned to his bed.

"What? What is it?"

"Sorry to break it to you, Sire, but you haven't a drop of magical talent."

"Oh." He was slightly relieved, but also oddly dejected.

Frankly, Merlin would have been surprised if he'd found otherwise. "Other side of the coin" and all that- as similar as they were in many ways, overall they were opposites and it would have just been strange for both of them to be magicians; not to mention unfair, considering Merlin's lack of physical skill.

"Don't worry, Arthur- you may not be able to _use_ magic, but you will always _have_ magic."  
_Unless you're even more of a turnip head than I think you are..._

By the time the royal figured out what he meant, Merlin was deep in the land of dreams.


End file.
